


Slow Dancing

by almostsophie1



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Canon Compliant, Fluff, Getting Together, Growing Up Together, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29405289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostsophie1/pseuds/almostsophie1
Summary: It’s not something that Daichi can point to, not a moment or a feeling or a thought he can give a name to - it just is.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	Slow Dancing

It’s a slow thing, falling in love with him.

⥨

Sendai City Gymnasium comes into view, gray against the backdrop of the clear sky. There are high school students in uniforms milling around out front in packs, a few busses pulled over at the edge of the street.

Daichi slips his keys into the pocket of his jeans, his car parked a block back. It’s a sunny August day, on the brink of overwarm. But it’s the energy in the air that feels electric- the tension and the excitement running high among the kids here for Interhigh Qualifying Rounds.

When Daichi played here last, he’d been summoning every ounce of calm he could manage in the midst of the chaos. The chaos namely being Tanaka and Noya, though Hinata and Kageyama were proving to be just as necessary to keep an eye on. 

He smiles slightly at that as he makes his way past this year’s team from Ohgiminami, navy blue and white uniforms, one of the taller students yelling at the others to stay together.

“Hey, Captain.”

Daichi blinks, and he feels his smile broaden as he takes in Suga leaning against the gymnasium’s outer wall.

He’s always been the calm in the midst of chaos for Daichi. 

When there’s  _ not  _ chaos, though, there’s mischief and teasing and trouble. But Daichi never minded that. 

And today, with all the noise and the movement and the buzzing of activity, Sugawara Koushi is the calm again. 

“Feels like we really are back here to play, doesn’t it?” Daichi asks as he comes to a stop in front of Suga. “Think you can still set?”

“Of course,” Suga answers. His eyes are glittering, and he looks relaxed even as he pushes himself off the wall. He’s still a little bit shorter than Daichi when he straightens up, but his fly away hair adds a little bit of height. “What about you? Still got those receives?”

“Always,” Daichi says immediately, and they look at each other for a moment before laughing. “You look good, Suga.”

“You too, Daichi.” Suga’s smile curves with his eyes the same way it did when they were fifteen, and eighteen, and twenty. “I saw Karasuno head in a few minutes ago. Their libero this year is even smaller than Noya.”

Their shoulders brush as they make their way into the stadium, avoiding two students who come barrelling out of the main doors yelling about shoes forgotten in the van. “I’m starting to think Karasuno attracts short players. It’s their thing now.”

“They have a giant, too. I thought he might’ve been a new coach when he walked by, but then I heard him  _ talk _ , and I’m pretty sure he’s just the world’s gangliest first-year. They all seem sweet. Overexcited, and most of them looked like they were about to throw-up, but sweet.”

Daichi snorts. “We’ll have to cheer pretty loudly then, hm?”

“That’s a given,” Suga says with a wink. “Oh, Daichi, I was thinking of this new cheer-”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard it,” Suga pouts, and he links his arm through Daichi’s. It’s air conditioned inside the lobby, and the walls have been painted a pale blue since Daichi was here two years before. 

“It’s going to involve some cute choreography,” Daichi says dryly. “Wait until Asahi and Noya get here and you can bully them into learning it.”

“Noya doesn’t need to be bullied,” Suga sniffs. “He knows a good, spirit-raising cheer when he hears it. And he’s  _ supportive  _ of the Karasuno team.”

“I can be supportive without dancing in the stands.”

“We’ll see,” Suga says, tapping the side of his nose with his free hand, and Daichi has a feeling that he’s going to be doing Suga’s new cheer by the end of the day. “Hey, tell me about your classes this semester. You said in your last message they’ve been busier than usual.”

Daichi bumps his shoulder against Suga as they walk into the main gymnasium, two teams already warming up, squeaking of gym shoes and the smack of volleyballs spiked to the floor. “Only if you tell me how your teaching practicum is going.”

Suga laughs, and he leans into Daichi’s side. He’s warm, and the sounds of Sendai Stadium make Daichi feel like he’s in high school again, like he’s tamping down on his own nerves, his own hopes and fears, so he can keep the team steady and level - and Suga is next to him.

“Okay,” Suga agrees easily, steering them both to a stretch of open bleachers. “Do you want to hear the story about the chronic crayon-eater, or the girl who declared her intent to marry three of her classmates last week?” 

“Both,” Daichi decides as he slides down on the bleacher.

Suga sits beside him, thigh pressed against Daichi’s, and his smile is the brightest thing in the stadium for all its high ceilings and fluorescent lights and crowds of people. It was when they were seventeen, too. 

“Good choice,” Suga says.

⥨

(Maybe falling isn’t the right word.)

⥨

“I’m staying.”

Daichi pauses in the hall at the sound of Suga’s voice. Asahi stops entirely, and they both turn to look at where Suga is standing a few paces back, his hands curled into fists at his sides and his brow furrowed. 

“Takeda-sensei is going to talk to us about it again today. You know that’s why he called all three of us in,” Suga says. The midday summer sun is glaring through the hall windows, and the school is quiet with classes in session. “And I’m going to tell him again that I’m staying on the team.”

When Takeda-sensei brought it up after practice last week, Daichi told Suga and Asahi to think it over. They’d both looked like they were ready to answer then, but Daichi wanted them to  _ think _ about it. He was Karasuno’s captain, but he was also their friend. He wouldn’t ask them to spend their last semester splitting their time between studying for university entrance exams and volleyball if that’s not what they wanted - not what they needed.

He thinks he already knew what their answers would be.

“I am, too,” Asahi says quietly. 

“Of course you are,” Suga nods. And then he looks straight at Daichi again, eyes glinting. “We’re going to Nationals.” 

He thinks he already knew what their answers would be, but hearing them say it is somehow all he’s wanted for the last six days. He breathes out lightly. If he has Asahi and Suga, then they’ll make it. If he has Asahi and Suga, he  _ wants  _ to make it for them, with them, because of them.

“Daichi?” Asahi asks from beside him. “Did you… decide not to stay?”

Daichi blinks for a moment in surprise, then huffs out a laugh. “I’m staying. I didn’t realize that was ever in question.”

Relief flashes across Asahi’s face and he gently pats Daichi on the back. “Our captain,” he says.

Then there’s a blur of movement, and Suga’s arms wrap around Daichi’s shoulders, knocking him off balance and sending him stumbling a step back before Asahi steadies them both.

“Our captain,” Suga repeats, his face pressed to Daichi’s neck. For all his warmth, his nose is always a little cold - his nose and his hands. “Of course you’re staying, too.”

Daichi laughs again, and he hugs Suga back for only a moment before Suga pulls away. His lips are trembling and he ducks his head, and Daichi realizes that Asahi and Suga worried in the same way he did, even if the answer seemed obvious to all of them.

When Suga looks up, he’s smiling, steady again. Asahi’s eyes crinkle, and sunlight beaming through the window makes them both so bright.

“Nationals,” Daichi tells them both, and they nod. He grins. “Let’s go tell Takeda-sensei, then.”

⥨

It’s the simple thought that  _ of course  _ Daichi loves him.

⥨

Suga meets Daichi at the train station, waving as soon as he sees him. 

He’s wearing a pale blue scarf today, wrapped twice around his neck and hiding most of his lower face. Only the bridge of his nose is visible - his wide eyes and the birthmark that sits just above the curve of his cheek. His hair is messy, longer since the last time Daichi saw him over New Years when they were both visiting their families.

“Hey,” Suga says, mostly into his scarf. “Are you okay with heading to a cafe near the station? It’s freezing.”

Daichi agrees, and then they’re hurrying out of the chill, puffy coats and little clouds of breath in the fading winter sunlight, evening already upon them.

The cafe Suga takes him to is small and most importantly warm, and Daichi listens in amusement as Suga orders something that sounds like it’s ninety percent sugar and artificial sweetener and ten percent coffee. Daichi gets a black coffee and an egg tart for them to split, and then they head to a table in the back with their tray.

Suga unwraps his scarf once they sit, and his face is still pink from the cold, the tip of his nose red. 

They talk about classes, like they usually do. They’re nearing the end of their first year of university, and maybe they should be bored of swapping stories about professors and course work and roommates, but Daichi isn’t, and he doesn’t feel like Suga is either. 

The conversation circles back to high school, and their friends, and Karasuno’s team under Ennoshita’s exceptional leadership. After nearly an hour, Suga’s sugar with a side of coffee drink is gone, but he still picks up his mug to inspect it.

Daichi watches him, taking in the switch in mood, knowing Suga’s rare serious face is something to take notice of.

“Do you want to talk about Yui?” Suga asks.

Dachi blinks in surprise. “Yui?”

Suga glances up from his mug. “You said that you weren’t - you aren’t seeing each other anymore. Are you doing okay?”

“Oh,” Daichi says. “Yeah.”

He and Yui broke up in late January, but it wasn’t  _ bad _ . A little rough, because they’d started dating after graduation and had been mostly long-distance, and it was on a rare Saturday they’d both had time to meet for a date that Daichi had told her he didn’t think they were working out. 

He’d only mentioned the break-up to Suga because he had asked how Yui was doing in a recent message. 

Suga just tilts his head to the side. “Yeah?”

Daichi nods, settling a little bit back in his seat. He can feel his brow furrows as he thinks back to the day he’d called things off, the way Yui’s teeth dug into her bottom lip as she said she needed some time, but she wanted to stay friends. “Yui’s great. She always has been. But the longer we were together, the more I realized I didn’t feel the way about her that she felt about me. I wanted us to work out,” Daichi breaks off, frowning slightly. “But something wasn’t there for me.”

Suga’s watching him closely. It’s his setter-eyes, all observation and practice and knowing. “What was that something?”

“I don’t know,” Daichi admits, and he can’t hold Suga’s gaze. He wraps his hands around his mug instead, even if the last bits of coffee have long since gone lukewarm. “She’ll always be important to me. And she said she wants to be friends again, once she’s had some time.”

“That’s good,” Suga says. His voice is light, expression mostly unreadable. “I would’ve had to bully you a bit if you’d ruined your friendship with Yui.”

Daichi laughs, and some of the odd tension that had settled over the table cracks and begins to melt. “I thought you were asking because you were worried about  _ me _ .”

Suga flashes him a cheeky grin, and Daichi watches as his shoulders relax. “I can be worried about both of Karasuno’s former volleyball captains at the same time.”

“Sure,” Daichi says easily.

“ _ Are  _ you holding up alright?” Suga asks. He knocks their feet together under the table, and his eyes brighten as he adds teasingly, “This was your first break-up. No one’s looking over here if you need to cry it out.”

Daichi aims a gentle kick at Suga’s chin, and laughs when Suga’s nose wrinkles at him. “Thanks but no thanks. Are you a relationship expert now, Sugawara-sensei? Going to give me love advice?”

Suga laughs, the sound bubbling and infectious. “Only if you pay me for it.”

Daichi snorts, but settles on grinning at Suga from across the table. “Pass.”

“I’ll give you a discount. One more egg tart and I’ll reveal all of my excellent matchmaking expertise.”

Daichi buys another egg tart for Suga, and brings it back to their table with the condition that Suga  _ not  _ give him dating tips. 

“Have you still been seeing that guy in your eight-a.m.?” Daichi asks instead.

Suga wipes crumbs away from the corner of his mouth. “That was just a date last semester.”

“What? Really? I thought he was-” Daichi gestures vaguely.

Suga just laughs at him. “Apt description, Daichi. And he was nice, but I wasn’t looking for anything serious with him.”

“Oh,” Daichi says, and he watches Suga take another bite of the egg tart. He wonders what Suga would want if he  _ was  _ looking for something serious. While Daichi’s relationship experience consists entirely of his approximately eight months of long-distance with Yui, he knows next to nothing about Suga’s dating life. 

“It’s not like I have much time anyway,” Suga says. “Did I tell you about the study group I joined a few weeks ago?”

Daichi shakes his head, and lets Suga steer the conversation away from dates and relationships, and when it’s nearing time for the last train, they return their tray to the front of the cafe.

Suga wraps himself up in his again once they step outside, and Daichi chuckles quietly and helps Suga tuck the ends into his coat. 

Warm yellow light from the cafe windows bleeds out onto the sidewalk, illuminating Suga from behind and casting a hazy halo around his head - like he’s some kind of angel in a jacket puffy enough to hide his wings.

“Are you walking home from here?” Daichi asks as he finishes tucking in Suga’s scarf, tugging the zipper up on his coat.

“Yeah,” Suga says, his voice muffled from the layers wrapped loosely around his lower face. “But I’ll see you off at the station.”

“It’s cold,” Daichi reminds him, as if they both aren’t already shivering. 

“That’s okay,” Suga answers.

So they walk to the train station together, huddle together on the platform, Suga’s teeth chattering as he laughs at Daichi’s retelling of the winter Tanaka caught a cold and managed to spread it to nearly every member of the team until practice was nothing but runny noses and cough medicine, everyone sleeping on each other in the team room instead of doing receive drills.

⥨

It’s not something that Daichi can point to, not a moment or a feeling or a thought he can give a name to - it just is.

⥨

“Nagamushi Junior High,” the boy says. He’s smaller than Daichi, and his uniform is a little bit rumpled. It suits him - matches the messiness of his hair that is currently sticking up in several directions at once. He’s smiling too, even as he seems to size Daichi up. “Sugawara Koushi.”

“Izumitate Junior High,” Daichi answers with a nod. “Sawamura Daichi.”

The gym doors are still closed, but Daichi had come here straight after class. Apparently, Sugawara Koushi had done the same thing.

Another boy appears, tall and nervous looking. His eyes dart from Daichi to Sugawara, and he chews on his lower lip. “Hello,” he says quietly. “I’m- um. Are you here for the volleyball team, too?” 

Daichi would’ve thought from his height he was at least a second-year, but now he thinks he remembers the back of his head in the halls around the first-year classrooms. “Yeah. I think they’re still locked up. We must be the first here.”

“Oh,” the boy says, and he looks a little bit lost.

Sugawara takes a step closer, and then he grins up at the tall kid. “I’m Sugawara Koushi. This is Sawamura Daichi.”

“Oh,” the boy says again, less nervously now. “Azumane Asahi.”

Sugawara’s grin widens, and Daichi likes the way his eyes curve with it. He claps his hands together. “Let’s go to Nationals together.”

Daichi laughs, but he nods. 

Azumane blinks a few times before a slow smile spreads across his face, and he nods, too.

⥨

Maybe it’s always been there because it’s always been him.

⥨

“Did you even try to organize any of this?” Daichi asks, frowning as he opens another box without a label and finds that it’s filled with a mismatch of kitchenware, books, and several photo frames half-wrapped in tissue paper. 

Suga sits on the floor a few feet away, carefully lifting a mug from the cardboard box between his spread legs. “Organize things? Who do you think I am, Daichi? You?”

Daichi snorts incredulously. “It wouldn’t have killed you.”

“Debatable,” Suga shoots back.

His new apartment is quiet, a fifteen minute walk away from the school he’ll start teaching at in a few weeks. It’s also filled with unlabeled boxes, and Suga’s unpacking is proving to be just as disorganized as his packing seems to have been.

Daichi carefully takes one of the photo frames from the box in front of him. It’s a picture of him, Suga, Asahi, and Kiyoko at their high school graduation. Kiyoko looks flawless, a tiny smile and a peace sign. Suga’s arms are thrown around Asahi and Daichi’s shoulders, grinning widely. Asahi’s laughing shyly next to him, his face scrunched up. Daichi is just looking at Suga, fond and warm.

“I don’t think I’ve seen this one before,” Daichi says.

“Hm?” Suga glances up from the box he’s working through, a row of mugs lining the floor beside his leg. “Oh, yeah, I love that one. It was up in my last apartment on my desk.”

Daichi carefully sets the photo down on the floor, and he finds himself glancing at it again even as he starts to unwrap the next one.

They order take-out when they’ve made their way through half the boxes, Suga asking very politely on the phone for his tofu to be  _ extra  _ spicy, and it when it arrives they end up eating on the floor next to the balcony windows, moon hanging bright and low over the rooftops beyond Suga’s new apartment building.

Suga looks silver in the moonlight, soft curves of his cheeks and his eyes a little sleepy as he smiles, thanking Daichi for spending the weekend helping him move and unpack.

Daichi thinks of the photo from their graduation while Suga is talking, and wonders if he’s looking at Suga right now in the same way - how long he’s been looking at Suga like this.

“We can do the rest in the morning,” Suga says with a yawn, and Daichi nods.

He doesn’t even realize their feet are tangled together until he stands to get a glass of water and has to take care not to trip over Suga’s legs.

Suga has a mattress without box springs for now, and they don’t even bother to discuss the possibility of a futon for Daichi, simply crawling into bed together.

Suga wiggles around to get comfortable, his hair building up static on his pillowcase until it’s nearly defying gravity when he finally settles, curled in a ball with his face turned toward Daichi.

Daichi elbows him when Suga tries to tuck his cold hands into Daichi’s armpit, and they both laugh as they fall closer and closer to sleep in the darkness of this apartment at the edge of Miyagi prefecture, at the precipice of a new mountain to climb as they stumble out of university and into new jobs in new towns in a new phase of life.

This is a constant, though.

Suga’s cold hands and his messy hair.

The way he’s always grumpy right after he wakes up, and how beautiful he is in the softness of morning light.

That’s a constant, too.

⥨

It’s a heartbeat rhythm - sometimes soaring, sometimes steady, always safe inside his chest.

⥨

Natsuki is the quietest of Daichi’s younger siblings. Today, she’s hiding behind her hair as she sits at the table with her homework spread out in front of her.

Daichi, still in his school uniform after getting back late from volleyball practice, pushes a plate of sliced apple towards her. He and Suga both have their own books and notes out, too, trying to review for an exam at the end of the week.

Natsuki ignores the apples, though she glances up at where Suga is sitting beside Daichi before focusing on her geometry textbook again.

She hasn’t said a word since Daichi got home with Suga in tow, though Suga’s been around enough that Natsuki should be a little more used to him. Suga doesn’t seem to take offense - even after Natsuki hadn’t answered his greeting. Instead, Suga is humming quietly to himself, flashing Daichi a reassuring smile as he turns another page of his notes.

Minato bounces into the kitchen, shouting hello to Suga and Daichi at a completely unnecessary volume before snagging a piece of apple and bouncing back out again. Daichi’s mom yells from upstairs that Minato needs to start on his homework, and Kaito interjects from the living room to say he’s done with _his_ homework, then there’s lots of loud voices and Natsuki is frowning and Suga just looks completely at home in the chaos.

“Geometry is pretty hard,” Suga says, once the yelling has subsided. Natsuki looks up at him again, hair still falling over her eyes. “Even on a good, easy-to-concentrate day.”

Natsuki hesitates before giving a tiny nod.

Daichi tries not to react, taking another apple slice and crunching down on it. He fakes looking at his notes, attempting to be as nonchalant and unobtrusive as possible. 

“Sometimes I would get stuck on a problem that would take hours,” Suga sighs, and Daichi hears the pout in his voice, the slightest bit over-exaggerated.

“Twenty minutes,” Natsuki says suddenly.

“On the same problem?” Suga asks breezily, like her finally speaking to him after nearly two years of coming over isn’t a big deal.

“Yeah.”

Suga makes a sympathetic noise, and he rests his chin on the curve of his palm. “Do you think I could take a look at it? Maybe we can figure it out.”

Natsuki silently pushes the book over to Suga, turning it on the table. She points to question thirty-six.

Daichi watches them, and his chest warms at Suga’s quiet, even voice, at his bright laugh when Natsuki makes one of her snarky asides about her teacher, at the way Natsuki picks up an apple slice this time when Daichi nudges the plate toward her.

“Thanks for helping Natsuki with math tonight,” Daichi says when they’re at the front door, Daichi leaning against it so they can talk in the warmth of the night air. “I know we didn’t get much studying done.”

“I was happy to hang out with Natsu-chan,” Suga says, his eyes curving as he smiles. “It just means you’ll have to study with me again tomorrow.”

Daichi grins back at him. “I can do that. Maybe we can go to the library?”

“Sounds good,” Suga says. “Though I’ll never say no to dinner at the Sawamura’s.”

Daichi feels his face soften, and he folds his arms over his chest. “You know, I was just thinking tonight how much you seem at home here, even when my brothers are yelling loud enough to make the walls shake.”

“Ambient noise,” Suga says with a wink. “And I do feel at home here. You-” Suga breaks off, and he lets out a soft laugh before shaking his head. “See you tomorrow, Daichi.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Suga.”

Daichi watches Suga walk up the street until he fades into the darkness, and then he lets himself back inside the house.

Natsuki is sitting on the sofa wrapped in a blanket, and she looks up from a book as Daichi locks the door behind him. “Nii-chan.”

“Yeah?” Daichi asks. He flops down beside Natsuki, and she curls into his side, tucking herself under his arm. 

“Your friend is nice.”

“He is,” Daichi agrees. “Want me to tell him to come over more often?”

Natsuki nods into his shirt. “You smell sweaty.”

Daichi snorts. “Sorry. I haven’t had time to shower yet after practice.

“Your friend didn’t smell sweaty.”

“Good for him,” Daichi says dryly. He’s about to stand up to go rid himself of his apparently affronting sweat-smell when Natsuki tugs on his shirt instead. 

“You like Suga,” Natsuki says seriously. 

Daichi blinks. Obviously he likes Suga - Suga is one of his best friends. “Yeah.”

Natsuki pushes her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears. She frowns at Daichi, looking eerily like their mom. She tilts her head to the side for a moment, then simply pats Daichi’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out,” she tells him. “Now please go shower.”

⥨

It’s a song Daichi knows, would recognize anywhere, wants to hear every day, and all that’s left is to learn the words.

⥨

Daichi drives them back from Sendai Stadium.

Suga’s overnight bag is in the trunk of the car, and he leans against the window as he hums along to the radio. The sky is painted in sunset gold and pink, night brushing blues across the edges.

Watching Qualifiers in Sendai is their tradition. They go every year they can to cheer Karasuno’s team on, to meet whatever friends can make it, to watch as the kids playing volleyball light up and leave everything they have to offer on the court.

This year, Karasuno won.

Daichi hasn’t stopped smiling. He doesn’t even know any of the team members anymore. He’s two years out of university, six out of high school, and even Yamaguchi and Yachi don’t recognize the students on the team at this point.

But he remembers what it was like to be seventeen and in that stadium, screaming with Asahi in his arms and Suga wrapped around him, the rest of their team crying and yelling even louder than the three of them, because they’d made it.

Suga always said they’d go to nationals together.

The light of Suga’s phone glows in the passenger’s seat, and he laughs softly. “I told Kageyama and Hinata that Karasuno is headed to Nationals. Guess what Kageyama messaged back.”

Daichi hums, mulling it over. He pulls up the image of Kageyama in his number nine Karasuno jersey, then of Kageyama when he saw him last, still tall and serious but smiling a little bit easier. “About time,” he says, imitating Kageyama’s terse speaking pattern.

Suga snorts. “We have a winner.”

They fall back into comfortable silence, just the radio’s soft music and the sound of the road beneath the car.

Suga falls asleep about ten minutes out from Daichi’s apartment, and his eyes are only half open when Daichi rouses him, carrying his bag.

Daichi holds his hand out, and Suga takes it, groaning as he drags himself from the car. “I’m getting old,” he says dramatically. “Watching the kids play today made me remember the days when my knees didn’t hurt.”

“You’re twenty-five,” Daichi tells him.

Suga hums at that, his fingers slipping between Daichi’s, sagging against Daichi’s side, warm and steady. “Getting old,” Suga says again.

Daichi laughs quietly, and he closes the car door with his foot. The sky is dark now, a few stray stars twinkling above them. Suga’s hair is soft against his cheek, still messy even after all these years, though the smell has changed from winter to spring to summer to fall. Daichi thinks he would somehow recognize it, though, even when it changes again.

They’re standing on the street in front of Daichi’s apartment building, and Daichi can only think of Suga’s hair and being fourteen and hearing Suga say, “ _ let’s go to Nationals,”  _ with confidence he didn’t always have, but wore for them - can only think of the heat that comes with Suga pressed against his side despite Suga’s cold hands and cold nose, a blue scarf and yellow light, their breath in February chill - can only think of summer nights with textbooks and Daichi’s little sister’s knowing eyes - can only think of how much Daichi loves him.

“Let’s get old together,” Daichi says.

Suga squeezes his hand, head still on Daichi’s shoulder. “Hm?”

“Suga.” And it’s like trying to put a melody in a bottle, trying to make words out of a heartbeat, trying to understand how it was never a matter of falling when he loves him as quietly and simply as breathing. “If you want me, I’ll be here for every year we get older. Every round of National qualifiers and every time you teach another first day of school and every new apartment you move into and every night you fall asleep in the car.”

“Of course,” Suga says quietly. He shifts, and then he’s standing in front of Daichi in the dark. His eyes are wide open now, and his fingers are still woven through Daichi’s. His brow furrows slightly. “Of course I want you.”

“I mean,” Daichi tells him, heartbeat and melody from the car radio and Suga’s hand in his, “I want to grow old with you, Sugawara Koushi. Every day that you’ll have me.”

Suga searches his face, and it’s all Daichi can do to look back at him.

“All of them,” Suga says, and he tips forward to press his face in Daichi’s neck. “I’ll have you every day, Sawamura Daichi.”

Daichi wraps an arm around Suga’s waist, pulls him close until his nose is in Suga’s hair and he can feel Suga’s chest rise and fall with his breaths, fast and ragged at the edges, like they’ve just finished practice and his heart is still beating too quickly.

“Daichi,” Suga whispers, and he sounds out of breath as his lips move against the edge of Daichi’s throat. 

“Yeah?”

Suga squeezes his hand again, then shakes his head.

Daichi presses a kiss to Suga’s hair. “Suga. Does this count as wanting something serious with me?”

Suga is quiet for a moment before he laughs, and he pulls back enough to meet Daichi’s eyes. He slips his free hand up over Daichi’s chest, resting it on his shoulder, curling his cold fingers into the fabric of Daichi’s jacket. “I’ve always wanted something serious with you.”

Daichi absorbs that, humming contemplatively as he rocks them a little to the left, then back. “Always?”

They sway again, and Suga shakes his head. “Maybe not in the middle of it all. I’d stopped hoping. But the last few years-” Suga’s laugh is a little brighter this time, a little teasing. “I noticed  _ you  _ noticing.”

Daichi winces, giving Suga a sheepish grin. “It was a little bit a slow process, huh?”

“No,” Suga says, and he tilts his chin up to catch Daichi’s lips, soft and light. “It was just us. And I’ve always liked us.”

“I’ve always liked us, too,” Daichi murmurs.

He kisses Suga.

Slowly this time.

Suga breathes in, parts his lips, kisses Daichi back, deep and steady, one hand in Daichi’s and the other on his shoulder, and Daichi moves his free hand to the curve of Suga’s waist to hold him.

It’s just the two of them on a quiet street in the south of Miyagi prefecture - just the two of them swaying gently on an October night to the tune of heartbeats and familiar breaths.

⥨

It was a slow thing, and it was theirs, and it was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> <3 
> 
> on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/almostsophie1/status/1360662835563540484?s=20)


End file.
